New Endings
by marilyn-monroe94
Summary: So, I was told to write a sequel, and being the kind person I am, I obliged. Willingly, I assure you. This story will NOT make sense without reading New Beggings first, I assure you. Please read and reveiw. This may go up to an M, but for now it's T.
1. Prologue

N/A Right, so some of you asked for a sequel, so here it is

**N/A Right, so some of you asked for a sequel, so here it is. I tried my best to make it co-inside with the first, but I'm not sure it's worked…Thank-you to all my other lovely reviewers though! Oh, and this isn't Bella's POV. I'm still trying to work out whose it is…**

**Prologue- From the ashes…**

A young girl stands in the clearing. She looks around her. The grass is a stained a deep, angry red, from the war that took place here hundreds of years ago. Quilette mythology tells of a rampage of vampires that killed their best werewolves. Jenna holds no stock in the stories, but, nevertheless, the field frightens her. She takes a step towards her mother. She doesn't understand why they are here.

The girl looks at the stinking bonfire in one corner of the clearing. It too has been there for years. The other kids are scared to go near it. Not her, though. She relishes fear. It means she feels something.

There is something strange about the marble arm sticking out at an odd angle from the pile of broken, damp sticks. Something…very human, yet…not at all.

She takes a step towards it.

"Careful, Jenna." Her mother mutters. She pays no attention and takes another step towards it. She suddenly has the strangest intention of poking the arm.

She picks a stick up off the ground. It feels strangely heavy. She steels herself, and lunges towards the marble.

Nothing.

What did she expect? For it to jump up and attack her? It's just marble. Marble. Why, then, did she see a very faint twitch. She's sure she did. She's certain. Yes, that's right, she mentally encourages herself. The arm shuddered, just gently, but it did. She's sure.

"Jenna, time to go." Her mother is already on the other side of the field. Jenna didn't realise. She almost doesn't want to go. Almost. But she does. She turns away from the field, and hurries after her mother.

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_The ash in the age-old bonfire stirs. A long arm of marble twitches. It searches. It writhes slightly, and then falls back down. It is searching, desperately, for itself. _


	2. Forgetting

N/A: Aww

**N/A: Aww! Thank-you guys sooo much! I had some lovely reviews. I'm back at school now, so it's going to be hard to update regularly, but I'll do my best. (Oh and this part is ALICE'S POV)**

**Chapter 1: Forgetting**

I'm numb. No, that's an under-statement. I've always been numb. Cold, at the very least. But never like this. This is an ache, right in the pit of my stomach. It's painful. I've tried taking pain-killers, but they don't work on vampires. And besides, nothing can stop this pain.

Jasper's gone.

There, I said it. Now I just have to believe it.

I used to go to the clearing everyday, just so I would feel something. I've stopped now. Bella made me. She and Edward returned when they heard I wasn't taking Jasper's….death so well. That was kind. I suppose.

I lie on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I had never felt the need for a bed before- it was just decoration. But now, now it feels necessary. I hate this feeling.

Sometimes I feel something else. Sometimes I feel hate. And sometimes, just sometimes, I feel fear. Fear of what I've become. I remind myself of Bella. I am like a zombie. But Bella had the sweet release of sleep. I long for sleep.

I am eternally damned. I must walk this earth for centuries, remembering.

Bella says I have to try to move on. It was 80 years ago, she pleads **(N/A: the Quilette legend says hundreds of years ago, but this is the accurate number!)**. But isn't moving on forgetting?

I can never forget. Must never forget. I can't. I just can't. It's like there's a mental wall inside me. I long to break it down, to be on the other side. But I can't. I just can't.

Every time Bella tries top make me smile, I almost do. But I check myself. Jasper is dead. How can I be smiling? How can I enjoy myself? So I don't. The mask slips back on, and I hide behind it.

It feels good to be behind the mask. Behind it, people can't judge the real Alice. People can't get angry at the real Alice. People can't pity her. But they pity the mask. They yell at the mask too. But it doesn't hurt. Not really. It doesn't hurt the real Alice. So I push it to the back of my mind.

I know I should try to pull myself out of it. I do. And I try. Sometimes. I plaster a smile on to the mask. I go out with Bella. But it's all a lie, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot entirely hide my face with the mask. Putting the mask on hurts me. But I have to do it. If I remove it, I'm bare. Raw. Naked. And that makes me weak.

Jasper was always the strong one. Now I have to be strong. I have to be strong for him. Or else, I'll forget. And that is something I will never do. Never.


	3. Worried

N/A: Ok, so this is Bella's POV (I'll tell you again, don't worry

**N/A: Ok, so this is Bella's POV (I'll tell you again, don't worry!), and I need some inspiration. Please? **

**Chapter 2: Worried (Bella's POV)**

"Edward, I'm worried about her." We were sitting…no, cuddling, on the sofa of Edward's house. I sighed and buried my head further into his sweater.

"Me too." He moved slightly under me, sighing as well. He stroked my hair.

I marvelled at how we were actually sitting here, cuddled up on a sofa, together. We should be with Alice, I know, but we've been with her for 80 years. We need some time on our own. I know Edward is getting frustrated with her. He thinks 80 years is long enough. Then I remind him how he would feel if he lost me. It would take a hell of a lot longer than that to get over me. I hope. He usually shuts up then.

For a married couple, we have surprisingly few _real _fights, and, if we do, they usually end in us kissing, making-out, and collapsing on the bed in exhaustion. We fight a lot, but they're only _fake _fights. Life is sweet when you have a blood-sucker for a husband (and, come to that, you're one yourself…)

Having one as a step-sister, however, isn't so great.

I sighed and snuggled closer to him.

"What are we going to do then?" I yawned as I asked. People always seem to think one yawns when one is tired. However, I know that's impossible- I don't _get_ tired. Edward says we yawn when we need to take in oxygen. I couldn't care less, to be honest, but his coming up with random facts like that is one of the reasons I love him so much.

"I'm not sure." He admitted "But I think she needs a change of scenery- she's been stuck in that bedroom for years. She only leaves to visit the clearing."

I felt sad remembering how awful Alice looked at the moment- so stricken, so shocked. She didn't look even a shadow of her old self. She was a shell, and it scared me.

I knew Edward was scared too. Whenever he feels something he can't handle, he just goes…quiet, and he barely speaks when Alice is around now. His thoughts scare her. I think he hears things…hears her thoughts, and they terrify him. He doesn't know what to do, and if he doesn't know, than what do I do?

I'm worried, and I think we're running out of time.


	4. I don't want to live without you

N/A: Ok, so everyone, this POV will make sense the further you read

**N/A: Ok, so everyone, this POV will make sense the further you read! Enjoy! **

**Chapter 3: I don't want to live without you.**

I groaned as I finally stood up. Eighty years I'd been there. I needed to leave that place.

I groaned again. Every step I took was agony, pure agony. I sighed as I walked forward. A few steps at a time, I thought. Just a few steps. There. Made it that far. Now just a few steps more…

I sighed as I fell again. I was too tired for this.

I knew I should probably take it more slowly, like when you're weaning a baby off of breast milk, but I had never been a patient person. I always needed to do everything at once. I was always in a rush. My mother used to say I learnt to walk and talk on the same day.

The truth was, after I had been stirred, I knew I had to get up. My arm moved, and that was it. The funny thing was the first thing I thought of when I got up was…Alice. Ah, Alice.

I still remember the way her hair moves when the wind catches it just so. Her eyes when she is seeing something good….and something terrible. Her smile. Her laugh. And her ability to love everything to the full. Her ability to love _life_ to the full. She is beautiful.

My memory of her gave me the strength I needed to try walking again.

When the werewolf attacked me, and cut me up, he thought he had killed me. He even put me on a bonfire. But somehow, and I'm not even sure now, I survived. I survived, but I lay unconscious in a field for…eighty years, it must have been. Eighty years, that is, until one little girl, helped me. That simple motion, of poking my arm, that one motion, was all I needed to find the courage to put myself back together. Of course, it wasn't simple. I had to wait, and as I mentioned before, I'm not so good at waiting, but I did. I waited until they had both left, and then I began to search.

I knew I had to find my torso first, and my shoulder. I had only ever heard about this kind of thing in theory, so when I actually managed it, I was taken by surprise. Getting up, however, was an entirely different matter.

You know how when you're in bed, sick, for…a few days, and when you try to get up, you kind of collapse? Well, that happened to me. A lot.

I started by moving myself into a sitting position (and even that was hard, let me tell you!), but I finally managed it.

I began stumbling, almost blindly, towards the forest. I wasn't sure about much, but I knew I had to get back. I had to see Alice.

I walked through the forest, my head reeling. I knew I had to be careful- one wrong step to my left could send me tumbling off the edge of the mountain.

I suddenly broke through the woods, the light blinding me. I couldn't see for a minute or so, but when my vision finally cleared, I saw a small, beautiful vision. It couldn't be real. It had to be a vision.

It was my Alice. _My_ Alice. The vision was just as beautiful as the real her. It was poised on the edge of the cliff, sadness etched on its face. The expression pained me. It was just so much like Alice! But it couldn't be, could it?

And then, the vision spoke. It was the smallest whisper, but I heard it.

"Jasper." It said, before tumbling forward.


	5. Alice

**N/A: I'm so sorry! I know I haven't written in ages, but I've been mucking around with some new stuff- it's not twilight, but check it out! I'd be grateful for some reviews!**

**Chapter 4- Alice**

I don't know where I'm going, or why. There is only one thing in my head. _Jasper_. One word. One face. That is all I know. That and I can't live without the word. Is it strange? Does it seem odd? This... love I have. It's not like anything I've ever seen, or heard about. It's even new to me. It's like my love for him has grown since he died. That sounds awful, doesn't it? But it's like I can see things so much more clearly. And the more clearly I see things, the more it hurts. It's like a terrible migraine, but the more aspirin I take, the worse it gets **(N/A: metaphorical aspirin)**.

I stumble through the woods, blind in my desperation. All I have ever known is him, and now he is gone, I don't know what to do. I am stripped down.

I am hysterical in my desperation. I know what I need, but I know I can never have it. I look about me wildly, clawing at the dense undergrowth. I am sweating.

Bella made me get out of the house. She says it's what I need most. But I don't want to. Then, I came up with an idea. A release.

Oh sweet release. How I pray for you. Who needs the Apocalypse, when I can't have Jasper? The end of my world happened 80 years ago, and every word of the Bible was right. True, there were no actual flaming skies, and no skeletons coming for me, but all the pain, all the suffering, that was real. That was real, and it was painful.

It is only in a sate like this, that one can truly see the world for what it is- bitter and terrible. This world leaves a bitter after taste in the mouth, like sucking a lemon. The taste is sharp, sickly sweet, and bitter. And yet, this taste brings me back to my senses, with a quick stab. I know I must be strong, but I can't take this much longer. I have to join Jasper.

Would he be ashamed of me? Would he be disappointed? I can honestly say, for the first time, I don't care.

As I push away the branches, towards my goal, I think I see a flash of yellow hair, the same colour as Jasper's. I know I'm dreaming. That's the only way that can be real.

I used to love dreaming. Now I hate it. I scream, tears spilling form my eyes, like angry hail stones. I cry, falling to my knees, weeping at the top of the cliff. I weep until there is nothing left. I don't know if I'm really crying, or if it's another vampire thing, but I don't care. I just... don't care.

"I'm coming Jasper." I whisper, my breath barely making an impact in the howling wind. "Jasper..." I cry, as I let myself fall over the edge.


	6. No

**N/A: OK, so, although I didn't have many reviews... at all... I've decided to give you another chapter. Aren't I lovely? Yes, would be the answer. Right, on with the show!**

**Chapter 5- No**

No. No! That's not right! That's not how it's supposed to happen. I fell to the ground, screaming, tearing at my skin.

She couldn't be dead. It's not possible, I kept repeating. The fall wouldn't kill her, I thought. But, deep down, I knew it could.

There's a legend that, if a vampire is desperate enough, a fall bad enough can kill them. All vampires can put themselves back together after being shattered, but if a vampire doesn't want to badly enough, it just won't happen. I screamed again, almost senseless.

In my anxiety, I barely noticed the low whimper starting from below me. I stumbled to the side of the cliff, prepared to go with her. But then I heard it.

It was only faint at first, but gradually it grew in pitch, until it became a piercing howl. I covered my ears, suddenly desperate to get away from there, to not hear the sound. But I made myself look over the edge, down at the patchy grass, and sandy ground.

Then I saw it.

The sight made me physically sick. I retched.

Alice... lay on the ground, her remains scattered like pebbles on a beach. My face distorted with pain and rage. I screamed again, needing some outlet for this anger. I heard the whine again, almost in response to my howl. I stopped, shocked, and the whine stopped. I tried again. The whine started again. It seemed to be coming for Alice.

I shot down the cliff fast, even for a vampire. I was by her in a second. I tried again, and again the whine replied, coming for somewhere close. I searched frantically for her face. It pained me, but I knew if I had a chance...

I found it, and held her beautiful mouth close to my ear, terrified I would somehow damage her. Her beautiful, all-seeing eyes, were shut, as though she was dreaming peacefully. I gasped, the sudden realisation of the fact that I might not save her, hitting me like a wave on the shore.

Suddenly, I saw something. It was the faintest twitch of her left eyelid. Yes, I was sure I saw it. There it was again! Alice was... alive! Was that possible? Cold I still save her. I looked about me, desperate to find another part of her.

I searched for hours, until I was certain I had every piece of her, and laid her delicately on the ground. I had forgotten how beautiful she was. So tiny and perfect, every feature of her as refined and perfect as the next. Her skin was like porcelain.

Now, I just had to wait.


End file.
